


Will You be There?

by ANobleCompanion



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Apologies, Bathing/Washing, Fallen Castiel, Healing, Homecoming, Hurt Castiel, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Sexual Content, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-25
Updated: 2013-08-25
Packaged: 2017-12-24 16:01:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,991
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/941851
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ANobleCompanion/pseuds/ANobleCompanion
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam and Dean find Cas after the angels Fall and bring him home to the bunker.  Inspired by Michael Jackson's <em>Will You be There<em></em></em></p>
            </blockquote>





	Will You be There?

**Author's Note:**

> Many MANY thanks to Tundraeternal for her fantastic beta and for helping me make my way through my first attempt at smut!

  

         They found him in Seattle.  Cas had been living under a bridge on the outskirts of the city in what amounted to a tent community.  It had taken the brothers months of searching.  Cas had left them signs.  One day, he’d found a can of spray paint left abandoned by a graffiti artist.  He’d taken to leaving the same message on random street signs and the surfaces of walls and overpasses in the hopes that if Dean was looking for him, some hunter might pass along what he had seen.  For Dean, each one was a thread of hope and a sharp stab of pain for what he had lost and had yet to find.  Something in his chest tightened every time he saw the words, “Yes; it is me: Cas.”

       He never signed them Castiel.  He was no longer an angel.  No longer _of God_.  It was a name ne no longer deserved.

       At first, he had been able to function Graceless.  He had walked among humans far longer and far more closely than any angel save perhaps Gabriel.  But the _Ioss_ overwhelmed him.  Not just the loss of his Grace – the loss of his _family_.  He had long been separated from the host.  But for the first time, he could not hear Dean.  Could not sense him wherever he was.  Could not answer whatever prayer the hunter might send his way.

       He could not check to see that Sam had survived the end of the trials.  That he was recovering.  He did not know if his family of choice still needed him.  Or even wanted him.  Had he gone too far this time?  Had his sins finally cut him off from everything he hoped for permanently? As this fear took over, carving an emptiness inside of him, Cas stopped leaving the messages - stopped leaving his small shelter altogether - unable to keep up what he suspected was a futile effort.

       So when Dean and Sam arrived, picking their way carefully through the huddled groups who eyed these strangers warily, they found him broken and nearly unresponsive to the world around him.  He had lost weight, he’d barely been eating enough to survive.  The sight nearly broke Dean’s heart.  He knelt down in front of the former angel and put his hand on his shoulder.

       “Cas?  Hey man, you ready to go home?”

       Cas felt Dean’s voice wash over him, and he looked up, recognition flickering in his unseeing eyes.

       Dean took one look into those blue depths, filled with hurt and hopelessness and _wanting_  and he swore, pulling Cas in and wrapping his arms around him.  Cas felt the comfort wash over him like the River Jordan and he wrapped his own arms tight around Dean, fisting trembling hands into the material of his jacket.  

“Dean,” Cas’s voice was raspy, as though he hadn’t spoken in several days.  “You are my friend.”

“No, Cas,” Dean said gently, “we’re your family.  C’mon.  Let’s get back to the bunker.”

It wasn’t difficult to haul the smaller man up and drape his arm over Dean’s neck.  Dean carried him as he had carried Sam so many times after a hunt gone wrong.  He would gladly carry both for as long as he could.  

They got Cas into the Impala and started for home.  

 

* * *

 

They made as few stops along the way as possible with Dean and Sam taking turns behind the wheel.  Cas, for the most part, lay stretched out asleep along the back seat.  They only spent one night in a motel, when neither Sam nor Dean could recover enough against the passenger window.  

Whenever they did stop, Dean made sure Cas was in his line of sight at all times.   He also made sure Cas ate, convinced the former angel had lost so much weight because he didn’t really know how much food was necessary for him now that he was mortal.  

They made it back to the bunker in about a day and a half, and by that time Cas had regained a greater semblance of his old self.  He was still weary and lacking his typical fire, but the unfocused look had left his eyes, to be replaced by a deep, undeniable sadness.

Dean ordered Sam to get Cas’s room ready and to get the shower started.  Sam nodded and pulled Cas along with him as Dean began to move about the kitchen, pulling out the things he needed to make the only thing he knew that he could use to ensure Cas knew he was _home_.  Soon, the kitchen was filled with the aroma of fresh cooked food.  

Sam walked back into the kitchen.  “He’s lying down.  He said he didn’t want to shower yet.  I didn’t want to fight him on it.”

Dean frowned inwardly, but nodded.  Sam was still recovering himself.  Dean wasn’t going to ask him to push anything - especially since he’d expended most of his energy on the drive back.  Besides, if Dean was honest, _he_  wanted to be the one taking care of Cas. The last time Cas had been in the bunker, Dean had been nothing but an asshat towards his friend and he felt a driving need to make it up to him.  To explain, at least through actions, what he couldn’t yet say in words.

“Thanks, Sam.  Why don’t you go lie down too?  I can take it from here.”

“You sure, Dean?  I can help too.  He’s kinda like another brother, you know?”

Dean smiled softly.  “I know.  Don’t worry, I got it.”

He finished up at the stove and poured the contents of the pot into two large, steaming bowls.  Well, they’d have to cool a bit anyway.  He’d work on getting Cas in the shower while they did.  

Putting the bowls on a tray, he carried them back to the room he and Sam had agreed to give Cas.  As Sam had said, Cas was lying on his side, hands curled under his head, knees drawn up protectively, eyes closed.  

“Cas?” Dean asked quietly, his voice registering just above a whisper.  He sat the tray down on the desk in the corner of the room.  “Hey, Cas?  C’mon, buddy.  We need to get you showered and changed.  I promise you’ll feel better.”

Cas opened his eyes and looked at Dean blearily, but he nodded his head in acquiescence.  Once again, Dean pulled him up and wrapped an arm around his friend’s waist.  He was pretty sure Cas could walk on his own now, but Dean needed the physical contact and it seemed by the way Cas leaned into him that he did too.  

Dean paused for a moment once they were in the bathroom.  Dean doubted Cas had ever taken a shower before.  Under normal circumstances, he figured he could just give Cas instructions and tell him to take care of himself.  At the moment, it still looked as though Cas was half in a daze and about to fall asleep standing up.  He wasn’t going to be able to shower on his own.  Reaching this conclusion, Dean gently urged Cas to sit on the toilet next to the tub and turned on the faucet before plugging the drain and letting the basin begin to fill.  As it did, Dean began to pull off Cas’s shoes and socks.  Catching on, Cas helped by pulling off his shirt and standing long enough to divest himself of his pants and boxers.  

Dean wondered momentarily where Cas had gotten the new clothes and extra layers, though he had to admit he liked the cargo pants.  He could see how the extra pockets might come in handy, even if they weren’t his style.  They suited Cas though.  

Dean tried very hard not to focus on Cas below the waist as he helped him into the tub.  It didn’t matter that the thoughts had been running through his head for years.  It wasn’t what Cas needed right now.  And he would be whatever Cas needed.  

The good thing about this particular bathroom was that the tub was one of those old fashioned clawfoot tubs that stood independent from the wall.  This made it easy for Dean to roll up the sleeves of his button down and ease Cas into the water from behind.  He lathered up a washcloth and began to stroke slowly over Cas’s chest and arms.  When he was sure he had thoroughly cleaned Cas’s front, he urged him to lean forward with a gentle press against his shoulders so he could reach Cas’s shoulders and back.  As he scrubbed, he followed with his other hand, rubbing his thumb deeping into the thick, tight knots Cas had developed in the corded muscles of his back.  

The whole time, he kept a constant stream of one sided conversation going, telling Cas about what had happened after the trials, what they had learned so far about the angels, that they had found Linda Tran and reunited Kevin with his mother, and how they had found Cas.  Every so often, Dean would stop his narrative and whisper, “I’m here, Cas.  I’ll always be here.”  He wasn’t sure Cas was even aware of what he was saying.  His eyes had remained closed for most of the process, only occasionally opening to watch Dean, and becoming more focused each time.  Soon, Dean had Cas thoroughly washed.  He would have liked to have spent more time, making sure Cas was fully relaxed, but their dinner was growing cold.  

When Cas stood, he looked stronger, the set of his shoulders more comfortable, so Dean held out a towel and let him dry himself off while Dean went to fetch the sweatpants and t-shirt he’d set aside for Cas to sleep in.  Though it was a little belated, Dean stood outside the door to give him privacy as he changed.  They walked back together to the room side by side.  

Cas settled cross legged on the bed.  As he moved to pull a chair closer to the side of the bed, Dean handed him the tray after taking his own bowl. He smiled at Cas, trying to put as much enthusiasm in it as he could.  “I’ve never made you my mom’s tomato rice soup before.  It’s the best for healing whatever’s wrong with you, body or soul.”

At the mention of “soul,” Cas looked up at Dean in surprise.  Dean blanched for a minute, but then shrugged.  “You’re not an angel anymore right?”

Cas looked down and answered so softly, Dean almost had to lean in to hear it. “No, I am not.”

Dean smiled again.  “Then I figure now, you have a soul like the rest of us, and since it’s new, it needs to be introduced early to the proper medicine.”  He pointed his spoon at his own bowl.  “This here, is a mother’s love.”  

Cas looked at his own bowl and smiled a small, but real smile back at Dean.  “Thank you, Dean.”

When they’d both finished, Dean took Cas’s bowl and the tray and stood to leave, figuring Cas needed to sleep some more, the weariness still plain on his face.  

“Dean.” Cas’s voice halted him at the door.  “Please stay.”  The last was whispered, as though he had no expectation Dean would follow through on the request.  Instead, Dean changed his direction and returned the tray to the desk before sitting on the edge of the bed and taking off his boots and over shirt.  He hesitated briefly at his pants, but figured they’d both be more comfortable if he was just in his boxers so he stripped his jeans off as well.  

Lifting the covers, he slipped in behind Cas and wrapped his arms around his friend, holding him close.  “I’m here Cas.  Whatever you need, I’m here.”

“I was lost Dean.  You found me.  Thank you.” Cas said quietly as he sighed and leaned back against him.  Almost immediately, his breathing evened out and Dean knew he was asleep.  

Ever so softly, so as not to wake the man in his arms, Dean leaned forward and pressed a kiss to the back of his neck.  

 

* * *

 

Cas awoke before Dean, feeling more alert than he had since he fell.  He relished the contact of the arms around him, he hadn’t realized how much comfort _touch_  could bring a human body.  He thought back to all the times Dean had hugged him when he had not hugged back.  Until now, he hadn’t realized how vital that return actually was.  

He turned in Dean’s arms and watched the hunter, still deeply sleeping.  Dean had promised he would be there when Cas needed him.  Cas had no reason really to doubt him.  Dean had always been there in the past when Cas had chosen to ask.  But Cas saw so much darkness ahead.  

He knew the other angels blamed him for the fall.  Several distinct and decidedly unpleasant encounters with some of his kin had convinced him he was better off living unnoticed under the bridge where Sam and Dean had found him.  He had chosen to lay low instead, trying to speak to Dean through graffiti rather than traveling himself.  

The first month or so had been all right.  He recalled feeling that the longer he’d been Graceless - the longer he could no longer _feel_ Dean in every atom of his being - the deeper into despair he had fallen.  He’d begun to wonder, would Dean still care?  Would he bother to look for Cas?  Would the fact that Cas had left him again, had not trusted him that one final time be the straw that broke Dean’s faith in Cas?

The doubts and frustrations had plagued Cas.  In his darkest hours, the memories of his own violence overtook him.  He’d imagined the blood on his hands was like Lady Macbeth’s.  No matter how much he scrubbed, he would never be able to remove his own tarnish.  He’d feared Dean would decide Cas was not worth finding.  That he’d brought with him too many troubles.  That he would realize Cas had fallen and decide that without his Grace, Cas wasn’t strong enough to help, that he didn’t need him anymore.  

Cas frowned.  Even now, he didn’t really know where he stood.  He wasn’t even sure who he was anymore.  For so long, he’d been controlled by others, Naomi, Metatron, even his own insanity.  It seemed almost as though he were simply a pawn for the world to play with.  Did he have a predestined role?  Could he still seize free will and grab hold of what _he_  wanted?   His brow furrowed in confusion before his eyes settled again on the hunter currently lying with an arm around him.  

His gaze softened and he wrapped his own arms around Dean’s waist and pulled himself more closely, laying his head on Dean’s shoulder, content to stay exactly where he was.  The movement was enough to wake Dean with his hunter’s training.  

Dean blinked down at Cas, sleep still in his eyes.  Cas watched him with caution. Would Dean’s willingness to hold Cas close abate with the morning? Would he realize that Cas was not who he had been?  He held himself as still as he could in this - his - human form.  

Dean seemed to take stock of their position before his lips curved up in a lazy smile.  “Morning, Cas.  You feeling better?”

Cas let out the breath he was holding on a sigh and closed his eyes briefly against the unexpected sting of moisture.  

“Cas?” Dean’s voice was concerned.  

Cas opened his eyes again.  “I do feel better.”  

Dean continued to watch him, waiting for him to continue at his own pace.  

“When I first began training with my garrison, eons ago, we were told three rules.  Three rules we must _never_  break or risk being lost forever.  First, we were to be faithful.  Keep our faith in our Father.  Listen to his commands as they were delivered to us through our higher brothers.  Second, no matter what happened in battle, no matter how we were injured, we were to continue moving forward.  To walk, even if we could not stand.  To continue fighting.  To never give up, to never be swayed by temptation, or fear, or greed.  And finally, we were to fight until the very end.”

Cas’s eyes bore into Deans and the wrinkles in his brow betrayed his confusion.  “Dean, I’ve lost my faith.  I no longer believe in my Father or his plan.  I refused the orders of my brothers.  I started to lose my way.  I was swayed by temptation.  I wanted to keep you safe and I gave into the need for power, believing it would bring order.  Instead, it brought chaos to Heaven and Earth.  I kept fighting, but,” Cas’s breath hitched and he looked at Dean, shaking his head against Dean’s shoulder.

“But Dean, I’m only human now.  How was I supposed to keep fighting?  I didn’t know how anymore.  I was truly lost.”

He squeezed his eyes shut and let out a shuddering breath, feeling the pain and the sorrow lift out of him as he did.  His shoulders relaxed and his features smoothed.  When he opened his eyes again to look at Dean, the corners of his mouth lifted in wonder.  “And then, you were there.”

Suddenly, Dean rolled so that his arms framed Cas on the bed.  Cas’s arms tightened around Dean’s waist.  “I’ll _always_  be there,” Dean ground out fiercely. “Cas, you’ve only ever had to ask.  You’ve always had a place here.  Stop doing things on your own.  Let me - let _us_  - help.”

He leaned down and lightly pressed his lips to Cas’s, pulling away as though to judge if it was all right.  Cas smiled up at him in return, moving his hand from the small of Dean’s back to his shoulder blade, pressing down in encouragement and leaning upwards to meet Dean as they began a tentative exploration into this new territory.  

“Cas,” Dean whispered, breaking off and leaning his forehead against Cas’s shoulder. “You don’t need to be any more than who you are _right now_.  You don’t need to be an all powerful Angel of the Lord.  You are still one of us.  You’re still family.  Even when you do stupid shit.  We’ve all done stupid shit. Just…,” he paused, and Cas felt Dean close his eyes against his skin.  He realized then that Dean was just as unsure as Cas and it both helped to heal and break his heart at the same time.  

“Dean,” Cas began, but Dean spoke over him as he shifted away and over Cas’s chest, looking up at Cas from near his heart.  

“Don’t go again, Cas.  Please.  Don’t leave. We,” Dean took a deep breath, “ _I_  need _you_.” His eyes were sincere and boring into Cas’s.  All Cas could do was nod in return.  Dean smiled and sliding lower, began to lay soft kisses against Cas’s chest, moving more boldly as he inched towards Cas’s stomach.  Cas involuntarily arched his body to meet Dean’s mouth as the sensations that had begun to slowly lift him when they had first kissed, now carried him as though he were riding a wave.  

Once Dean reached the edges of Cas’s boxers, he rose up, meeting Cas’s mouth again and feeding him all the promises of the here and now.  Fleetingly, for this moment, it was enough.  

Dean moved his hands then, tracing them along Cas’s sides, his thumbs rubbing circles into his skin as he lowered his hips to align himself with the man beneath him.  He paused, and looked at Cas again to confirm he was on board with what they were doing. “Cas, you with me?”

 Cas closed his eyes and gasped at the contact.  Rather than respond verbally, Cas nodded, his hands instinctively grasping Dean’s ass to hold him in place as they moved against each other in a dance as old as time, but new with every touch.  Cas fought the tears that pooled in his eyes.  They weren’t tears of sorrow, or even joy.  They were tears of gratitude, and he knew Dean wouldn’t want to accept them.  

Dean saw them anyway and Cas wanted to kick himself for his inability to control his human body when Dean stopped.  

“Cas, what’s wrong?  Is it too much?  I can stop, we don’t have to do this.” Worry was etched thick in Dean’s voice and Cas rushed to reassure him, reaching up with one hand to cup his friend’s face as he spoke.

“No, Dean.  This is something I didn’t think I would ever get.  That I would ever deserve.  I wasn’t sure, after I left you the last time, if you would even want me back.  If perhaps I had finally gone too far and lost your friendship for good.  I had intended to make it up to you.”  He laughed through the tears, “I even tried to buy you pie.” Dean smiled briefly, his thumbs at least resuming their circles along Cas’s ribcage.  “Then Metatron found me and everything spun out of control.  I’m sorry I listened to him.  I’m sorry I didn’t come to you first. I’m grateful you still came to find me, despite your anger.”

“Cas,” Dean closed his own eyes and leaned into Cas’s hand before opening them and lowering his head so that their noses were nearly touching.  “I can be an ass.  You of all people should know that.  I was angry and I was wrong.  There will _never_  be a time when I don’t want you here.  I’m sorry I was a dick before.  That’s on _me_.  I’m just glad - I’m glad we found you.” Dean rested his forehead against Cas’s and Cas’s hand slid to the back of his neck.  “It took months.  I thought I’d lost you.  For good this time.”

“I’m right here, Dean,” Cas said, threading his fingers through the hair at the base of his skull in pulling him in for another kiss.  

Dean let himself be led, tongue seeking entrance to Cas’s mouth as his hips began to move again.  Dean’s hands, still framing Cas’s ribs, began to continue lower, tugging at the boxers at Cas’s waist.  Cas lifted his hips in compliance, more than willing to allow Dean to remove the barrier between them.  Likewise, he began to push at the fabric covering Dean’s hips.  Soon, both men were moving unfettered against each other, sweat forming on chests and shoulders only to be kissed or licked away.  

“ _Dean_ ,” Cas cried out as Dean’s tongue worshiped the hinge at Cas’s jaw, at the juncture where it met his neck, just below his right ear.  Each kiss freed the parts of him that had shut down, when he Fell. The parts of himself he had only ever shared with Dean.  “Dean, please, I need you. _Please_.”

Cas wasn’t sure if he was asking about the immediate need for fulfillment, or for a long term promise.  Either way, Dean moved to look Cas directly in the eyes, making sure Cas was looking back.  He never stilling the movement of his hips as his voice, low and wrecked, ground out, “You’ve got me, Cas.”

The words were all it took to push Cas over the edge, his fingers tightening on Dean’s biceps as he came. He arched upwards, pressing his entire length against Dean as he shook his way through his orgasm. The movement caused Dean to shout and Cas felt Dean follow after him, registering the after effects of their lovemaking between them, bathing their stomachs with evidence of their release.

As Dean collapsed next to him, he pulled Cas tightly to him and repeated his earlier words, adding to them as he drifted off, “Cas. I’m not letting you go again.”

Cas wrapped himself against Dean, content in the promise of another tomorrow and feeling truly blessed.


End file.
